


A (Late) Dean and Castiel Christmas Present

by under_a_grey_cloud



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Presents, Knut Schmidt-Nielsen, Other, sparrows, xmas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 10:35:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9067930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/under_a_grey_cloud/pseuds/under_a_grey_cloud
Summary: Castiel and Dean are surprised by a very surprising Christmas present.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NorthernSparrow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NorthernSparrow/gifts).



> This tiny story is dedicated to [NorthernSparrow](http://archiveofourown.org/users/NorthernSparrow). She doesn't know me from Adam, but her body of work has changed my life. When I first joined AO3, I didn't know very much about fanfic. I never expected to find writing on the same scale as my favorite published authors: Neil Gaimen, Charles de Lint and Anne Rice, to name a few. And I certainly didn't expect authors to share the stories of their lives, as well as the stories of their fanfic.
> 
> Both Northern Sparrow's life and work have brought me to tears of joy and sorrow, and sometimes laughter. Crowley's cupcakes were pretty funny. Mostly, however, her writing leaves me awestruck. But then again, what else would I expect from an ornithologist who works with whales.

Dean and Cas cuddled by the open stove in the bunker. They’d meant to build a fire outside, but, rather than a white Christmas, they got what meteorologists euphemistically call "a wintry mix," otherwise known as sleet, ice and freezing rain. Neither of them cared about the weather. This was the first Christmas they’d spent together as a couple, and nothing could spoil that.

 

Neither of them were as interested in Christmas as in each other. Cas preferred not to think about his Father’s abandonment. Dean had made a half-hearted effort to decorate; the coat tree in the entrance was now ensconced in blue, red and green lights, making it festive but impossible to use for hanging coats. He’d also hung a canopy of blue lights from the ceiling above their bed, so they could be ensconced in light as Dean slept and Cas watched him sleep. Cas also did double duty catching poorly attached strings as they threatened to fall on Dean, and draping them over the bedposts. He was mostly successful, although occasionally he missed a string and Dean rolled out of bed in the morning nearly strangled by blue lights.

 

One morning, in an attempt to free himself, Dean managed to pull down the entire chain of lights. Enough. He pulled Cas close, as if for a kiss, but instead undressed him with amazing alacrity. He wrapped all the lights around Cas’s naked body, laughed, and said “Now you’re really an angel.”

 

“I fail to understand how being wrapped in blue lights has anything to do with the validity of my angelic status.”

 

“Dude, you’re glowing. Angels glow. Halos, y’know?”

 

Cas gave his sideways glance, and Dean snickered as they removed the lights from Cas’s body, taking care with especially sensitive places. By the time they’d finished, Dean threw Cas back in bed. They didn’t emerge for quite a while.

 

When they finally got up, the bunker was cold. Dean was afraid to turn up the ancient generator; it might well kill all the electricity in the bunker. They emerged from the bedroom wearing two pairs of sweatpants each, along with a variety of layers of flannel shirts and sweaters. Which is how they ended up in front of the open oven.

 

All the years of being almost lovers had led to a perfect understanding and acceptance of each other. They were quite content to snuggle under throw blankets, stare at the pilot light, and reflect on how lucky they were. Every now and then a kiss interrupted the silence, but mostly they listened to the rain and sleet and each other’s breathing.

 

Suddenly Dean heard a loud bang on the outer bunker door. As they walked up the stairs to investigate, they could hear what sounded like singing. “Christmas carolers on Christmas morning? Are they supposed to keep knocking on the door like that?” Cas shrugged. He thought nothing about life on Earth could surprise him anymore.

 

He was wrong.

 

Dean opened the door to find a large rectangular shape at eye level, wrapped in what appeared to be brown packing paper. On closer inspection, the paper seemed to be very old, and covered with writing. Writing that astonished Cas as he took a closer look. The package should have been soaking wet, but it was totally dry. A flock of brown and white sparrows supported it in the air, as if they were heavyweight hummingbirds.

 

“Why aren’t they freezing to death?” Dean asked, worried about the delicate little birds.

 

“They’re northern sparrows. From Alaska. They’re covered with enough down under their feathers to keep them warm in a blizzard.” Castiel carefully supported the package on his palms. He muttered something in Enochian to the birds, which then took flight and gradually disappeared into the dark clouds. “Let’s get this inside. If it’s what I think it is, we don’t want it to get wet.”

 

Cas set the perfectly dry package on the kitchen table with the care he would use settling a newborn in its crib. Dean leaned over and looked more closely at the package.

 

“That’s not like any wrapping paper I’ve ever seen.” It was colored in motley shades of brown, covered with what looked to Dean like hieroglyphs, though he knew it was probably Enochian. A corner began to rip as Dean touched the paper.

 

“Be careful, Dean. That papyrus is probably as old and valuable as the gift it covers. Allow me.” Cas tapped the wrapped package twice, and it opened to reveal a book inside.

 

“Awesome. This looks as old as you, Cas.”

 

“Not quite. It was written after Father created angels.” He lifted the book gingerly and read the words on the cover.

_The Physiology of Angels_

_With Notes on Behavior_

_and_

_Additional Observations_

_by_

_Knut Schmidt-Nielsen_

__

“This is a copy of the book we used to help splint your wings, isn’t it?” Dean asked in amazement.

 

“No,” Castiel replied, touching the book as if it were a precious museum statue. “The book we used was a copy. This is the original.”

 

Dean’s jaw dropped. “But how, who sent it?”

 

“Human lore would suggest it came from Santa Claus, from the North Pole. I’ve noticed that when children reach the age of seven or eight, they realize Santa Claus is a lie, created by adults to disguise who the presents are really from.”

 

“Hey, it’s not a lie, exactly... More like... a Christmas tradition.”

 

“You’re wrong again,” said Castiel, his face a mixture of bemusement and awe. “This book predates Christmas by many millenia.”

 

“Then who could have sent it?”

 

Cas let a small style grace his face. “It’s from Father.”


End file.
